Knit With Love
by CreativityFlow
Summary: thewhaleridingvulcan requested: Spideynova Peter is learning to knit so he can on the down low leave knitted items for Sam. Cue Sam finding out months after receiving his first hand knit scarf.
1. Knit With Love

Sam received his first scarf about a week after he first complained of the cold. It was long and sloppy, but soft and cozy, so Sam wore it nearly every day.

The team gave him odd looks at first, but didn't say much.

The hat he found next was much neater, and even had a little pom-pom ball. Like the scarf, it was blue, but it was a little tight on his head, which caused a problem when Sam had to dash to school, but he lived with it.

One night at the library (Ava had dragged him along), he was wrapping the scarf over his arm, over and over, mostly trying to stall.

"Sam," Ava hissed, "will you at least pretend like you care about your grade?"

He pouted, but wrapped the scarf around his chair anyway.

"Where did you even get that thing?" the girl asked, looking up from her English paper to give it a strange look.

"I dunno," Sam shrugged. "It just kind of... showed up one day. Don't be mean to my scarf."

She rolled her eyes. "When you get a sweater with three sleeves, let me know."

The sweater that showed up the next week only had _two sleeve_ s (which he shoved in Ava's face with a smirk), even if the arms were a bit long. He had no complaints though, because they proved to be excellent weapons of mass destruction every time Peter got on his nerves. Which was a lot.

Webs only got annoyed a few times, and once he even tied the two sleeves together. Sam had to chase him throughout the lunch room to get him to untie it, because the rest of the team was too busy laughing.

He ended up getting a pair of mittens, but after January, the little presents stopped coming. He understood, of course, because the winter season was almost over, and really, what else was there? Socks?

On second thought, Sam would like a pair of socks. But he didn't have a clue as to where the mysterious items had even come from, let alone who made them. The only person he knew that could knit was Aunt May, but she didn't have access to the Tricarrier.

Maybe he could get her to make him matching socks, though. That would be nice, and it would complete his collection of soft and cozy things.

So on Saturday afternoon, after training, he went with Peter to play (read as: _destroy_ him in) video games. They were halfway into February, and the weather was uncharacteristically warm, so Sam had just settled for his hat.

"You know you wear that thing almost everyday?" Peter pointed out.

"I like it," Sam defended.

"Even that thing?" Peter flicked the pom-pom with a laugh, and Sam swatted his hand away.

Of all days not to wear his sweater.

"That's the best part of it, Web Head," he insisted, using a _duh_ voice. Then, testing his limits, he asked, "What's the matter? Jealous someone else gives me presents?"

Peter flushed pink, and looked away. "Of course not, Bucket Head."

They had reached Peter's house, but the door opened before they made it to the front step. Aunt May was walking out, a helmet tucked under her arm and a duffle slung over her shoulder.

"Oh, Peter, Sam," she greeted. "I left a note, but there's leftovers in the fridge for tonight, and money for pizza tomorrow." As she passed, she kissed Peter's cheek and reached out to ruffle Sam's hair before she noticed the beanie. "Oh, Sam! He did give you the hat."

Peter froze, and Sam looked at her, puzzled. "Who?"

"Peter," Aunt May said,motioning to her nephew. "I know he says he didn't like the class I forced him into a few months ago, but I don't think he's half bad, do you?"

"Wait-"

The cab on the curb honked, and Aunt May sighed, before continuing on. "Have fun this weekend, boys!"

Then she was gone, and Peter looked like he wanted to absolutely die.

"Parker, did she just say you made the hat?" Sam asked. "And... and the scarf, and sweater, and mittens?"

He kicked at the ground, and his eyes darted everywhere but at Sam. "I mean, I remembered you said you got gold easily, and the class really wasn't that bad, so... yeah."

Sam grinned, and, fighting, his own blush, leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you."

Peter's face was scarlet, and he gave a sheepish smile. "Um, y-you're welcome."

"But you know," Sam couldn't help but smirk as he led Peter the rest of the way into the house, "I could do with some socks. Ooh, or a blanket."

Peter blinked, and after confirming with himself that was actually serious, he laughed. "Yeah, we'll see, Bucket Head."


	2. Knit Together

**There wasn't going to be a second part until Charlion_EM commented about this idea and I love her so I had to.**

* * *

Peter wasn't the best at knitting, but he was decent enough that Sam demanded a new sweater every year.

He demanded a blanket, socks, and mittens, too, but sweaters were a must have Christmas gift.

Sometimes, the sweaters were a joke, a dumb pun, or some internet meme, but other times, they were cute with meaning, with little references to their first date, or first Christmas.

This year was different. This year would trump all the other years, and Peter was determined to make it perfect with perfect measurements, perfect stitches, and arms short enough so that they wouldn't be in the way, but long enough for Sam to be annoying with the little flappy weapons (something that Sam was very upset about the year Peter purposely made the sleeves three inches too short).

Peter usually worked on the sweaters when Sam was working or in bed, but this year, Peter worked in his office, with the door closed. When he wasn't knitting, the sweater was locked away from prying eyes. No one was seeing that thing until Sam unwrapped it on Christmas Day.

The days leading up to were filled with last minute decorations and shopping, and, thankfully, Sam had only asked about the sweater once.

"You know, I haven't seen any yarn around the house," he hinted while picking up eggnog.

"You said you wanted the house spotless, remember?" Peter smirked. "You can have either a clean living room, or one tangled with strings and needles. Your pick."

He pouted at that, and mumbled something about "never hosting Christmas again," but didn't bring it up again until Christmas Eve.

He was sorting through the wrapped presents, propping them up so they could all fit and making it look like something from a magazine, when he paused.

"Pete?" he called. "Where's my sweater?"

"Aren't you wearing your sweater?" Peter teased, nervously glancing back towards his office.

Sam looked down at last year's gift, a bright red with the outline of Spider-Man's mask with a little Santa hat, and stuck his tongue out.

"Come on, Petey," he whined. "You know I can't live without my sweaters."

"I think your addicted. Maybe you shouldn't get one this year; it's too dangerous." Peter laughed at his boyfriends exaggerated groan and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Calm down, babe. I'm sure Santa will bring you a brand new sweater."

Sam grabbed him to kiss him fully on the lips and both men smiled.

The next morning, there was in fact a lumpy wrapped gift under the tree, and Sam actually squealed. Before Peter could stop him, Sam had ripped the paper apart and was tucking it under his chin to admire it.

Something fell from the blue bundle (the same color blue that Peter used that first year that started this relationship), and Sam stooped down to pick it up.

Peter held his breath as Sam froze, his fingers clutching the little black box. His green eyes darted to the sweater, and after sending a (hopefully) hopeful look at Peter, he raised the sweater to get a better look.

The words _Marry me?_ were stitched in white, and stood out boldly. With shaking hands, Sam opened the box, and Peter stepped forward, prepared to give his long, memorized proclamation of love.

Before he could even open his mouth, Sam whirled around and launched himself at Peter, the sweater forgotten, but the ring box clutched tightly in his hand.

"This is the most nerdy, adorable thing you have ever done, Parker," he stated, and crashed his lips to Peter's.

Sam's arms were around his neck, he wrapped his arms around Sam's waist, pulling the other man closer.

When they finally had to pull apart to breathe, Peter asked, "So is this a yes?"

Sam laughed and pecked his nose. "Is there a promise of more sweaters in the future?"

"I'll make you one every day, if you want."

Grinning, Sam cooped his face and gave him another kiss on the lips, long and sweet, and when he pulled away, Peter was having visions of sugar plums.

"Yes, you nerd," he sighed, nuzzling Peter's neck, "I'll marry you."

When Aunt May and the rest of the team arrived, they only stopped for a second at the sight of Sam's sweater before congratulating them.


End file.
